


降雨 (Rainfall)

by Mertiya



Category: Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Just the tropiest, M/M, Mostly plotless but they bicker, Only One Bed, Sharing a Bed, Sho is tsun, Soaked from a sudden rainstorm, Tsunderes, Yuletide New Year's Resolutions Challenge, lin is a trashboi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: In which Sho is wet and irritable, and there is only one bed.  Lin does not fail to capitalize on the opportunity.
Relationships: Rin Setsu A | Lǐn Xuě Yā/Sho Fu Kan | Shāng Bù Huàn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	降雨 (Rainfall)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireBatVillain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireBatVillain/gifts).



> I always forget Yuletide is a thing and I don't know how to properly kick this into New Year's Resolutions but everyone deserves more TBF fic, so hopefully you like it! Takes place between S1 and S2.

Shō Fu Kan was damn tired. He’d walked for a long time today, and he was keeping a wary eye on the sky, which had been covered in ugly storm clouds for most of it. He didn’t really feel like being soaked after a long, hard day on the road. His feet hurt. He wanted to lie down.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked on and saw ahead of him the welcoming yellow lights of an inn, the paper lanterns outside bobbing in the breeze, but he sighed too soon. With a tremendously bright flash of lightning and almost simultaneous rolling thunderclap, the clouds parted, letting loose a sheet of water that promptly soaked him from head to toe. Shō groaned, cursed under his breath, and began to trudge muddily towards the inn. At least it shouldn’t be too hard to get dried off.

No sooner had he ducked beneath the protective overhang of the inn’s roof than there was the sound of wet footsteps just beside him, and an all-too-familiar voice said. “Oho, fancy meeting _you_ here, Sir Shō.”

“Crap,” said Shō. He looked to the side. Lin Setsu A gave him a cheerful wave in return, despite the fact that he was also soaked through, his long white hair plastered to his head and back, his overly elaborate costume bedraggled and almost see-through, leaving very little to the imagination. “Are you ever gonna stop following me everywhere, man?”

“Would I do such a thing?” Lin asked, fluttering his eyelashes. “Surely it is no surprise that a man would take shelter out of—” he gestured with the damn pipe, which he had produced from apparently nowhere, “—such a truly terrible storm.”

Shō eyed him suspiciously. He was relatively certain that even Lin couldn’t control the weather, but at times like this he began to wonder. After a moment he sighed, shrugged, and started wringing the worst of the moisture out of his clothes. When he was satisfied he wasn’t going to bring an actual flood with him, he pushed the door of the inn open and looked around.

It was crowded, even out here in the front. People lined the couches, drinking and talking. “Well, well,” Lin commented, promptly popping up at his shoulder. “It certainly seems busy.”

“Guess so,” Shō responded, scanning the room for someone who looked as if they worked here. After a few minutes, a young woman in a simple outfit headed over to them. “Can I help you?” she asked, giving him a solemn bow.

“Ah—yeah, do you have any rooms?” 

“Please follow me,” she said. “I think we have one left.”

_One_ left? Shō wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he followed her into a small room off the side of the main one, where she took out a list and began to look down it. “I’m afraid it’s a little small,” she said apologetically. “It’s really only supposed to be for one person.”

Shō opened his mouth to reply that since _he_ was only one person, that wasn’t a problem, but of course another voice sounded first. “Any shelter from the rain would be delightful,” Lin said.

“Hey, man,” Shō turned around, “who said you could—?” Lin was leaning against the doorway. Despite the lightness in his voice, he looked tired and bedraggled, his body slumping with weariness. Shō pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Fine,” he grunted. “Thanks,” he said to the young woman, pulling out a few coins to pay her.

“We are happy to be of service,” she told him. “Would you like me to take you to the room?”

“If you would be so kind,” Lin put in again, and she looked over at him and promptly blushed. Of course. Shō wondered vaguely if Lin had some kind of plan to seduce her to upset the innkeeper or something. That sounded in character for him. Apparently it was just his natural flair, though, because he didn’t say anything else to her as they two of them followed her to the room she’d mentioned.

It was pretty small, and there was only one futon, already laid out. Shō groaned again, but at least it was warm in here and private. Well. Mostly private.

“Ahhhh,” Lin sighed, as the door shut. When Shō looked around at him, he was pulling off his sopping wet clothes. There was suddenly a great deal of lithe, muscled Enigmatic Gale on display. Shō felt his cheeks going red, and he looked away.

“At least warn me, man,” he said.

“Warn you?” Lin asked innocently. “Oh, dear me, how _improper_ of me—I simply wanted to get out of these wet things. A thousand apologies.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Shō crossed quickly to the window and looked out at the stormy evening. Behind him, he heard rustling and soft vocalizations. “Did you find a goddamn towel?” he asked after a minute.

“Yes, to our great fortune there appears to be a supply in the cupboard,” Lin responded. “Perhaps, Sir Shō, you ought to disrobe as well?”

“Don’t look,” Shō told him irritably.

“Would I—”

“Yeah, you _would_ do such a thing, and I’m telling you—don’t.”

Lin made an insulted noise, but as Shō turned back around, he presented him with a thankfully large towel and then turned his back. He had, perhaps nominally in deference to Shō’s sensibilities, wrapped a towel around his own waist, but, since it was hanging dangerously low on his slim hips, this did not materially improve the situation. Shō looked back over at the window, trying to keep himself from having a physical reaction. 

He pulled off his own soaked robes with relief and began to towel himself off vigorously. 

“Can I help you with that, Sir Shō?”

He whirled, but Lin did still have his back turned. “No,” Shō grunted.

“I simply thought, since it is sometimes difficult to dry your own back—”

Shō facepalmed. “Look, let’s assume I want as little contact with you as possible.”

“I’m hurt, Sir Shō. You know I would never wish harm upon _you_. You are hardly the kind of person I view as entertaining prey.”

Not bothering to respond to this, Shō continued to dry himself off, then tried to figure out what to do next. He was more tired than he was hungry, having eaten while he was on the road, but either way he had no clothes, and there was still, glaringly, only one futon. Maybe he should just let the other man deal, but that was probably beyond the level of rudeness Shō was comfortable with, even if his companion was the most annoying person he’d ever met. “Hey man, are you gonna want the futon?”

Lin took this as license to turn back around, and Shō hastily pulled the towel around him. “Ah…” Lin looked at the futon, then pushed one foot down into the tatami floor. “No, no, I would not wish to disturb you,” he said. “I am sure I will not be too cold on the floor.”

Rolling his eyes, Shō sighed. “You could just say yes.”

“I would not wish to turn you out of it, either.” And, oddly, that statement did have the ring of truth. Shō tried not to think too hard about that one.

“So you’re saying you want to share it.”

Lin tipped his head to the side and smiled in a way that was entirely too endearing. “That would be my personal preference, yes.”

The correct response was either “no” or “hell no.” Shō took in a breath to say exactly that and then it came back out as, “fine. I hope you don’t kick.”

“I have never been informed I am anything less than a model bed companion,” Lin said, his voice turning suddenly smoky, his eyes darkening. Oh, _damn_. Shō’s towel twitched. Not good.

“Good,” he said, then took the opportunity to look away hurriedly and head for the futon, dropping the towel just before he slid in between the sheets. A moment later, Lin’s arm dropped across his chest and Lin’s mouth brushed across the back of his neck. “OI!” Shō pushed back with an elbow, not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to very firmly remove the Enigmatic Gale from direct contact with him. “There is more room than that.”

Lin made a petulant noise. “I am still _cold_ ,” he sighed.

“You’ll warm up,” Shō told him firmly. “I need to sleep.”

Another sad, soft noise, and Lin’s warm breath blew across the back of his neck again. “As you wish,” the Enigmatic Gale purred. Shō shut his eyes and ignored the weight between his legs.

~

When he woke up, watery sunlight was filtering into the room, sieved by the leaves of unseen trees to create a gentle dappling. He was on his back, and there was a warm weight on his shoulder, a warm pressure against his side. Shō sighed loudly, then looked down to see Lin sleeping the sleep of the dead tucked up against him. He looked less calculating in repose: peaceful, almost beautiful. It was a shame, Shō thought groggily, that something inside him _liked_ the way the air seemed to crackle between them. It wasn’t Lin’s beauty that still sometimes stole Shō’s breath when he looked at him.

As if in answer to his thoughts, Lin’s red eyes flickered open and fastened on his face, and his lips widened from a gentle smile into a smirk. “Good morning, Sir Shō,” he said brightly. “I trust you slept well?”

Shō grunted an acknowledgement, watched Lin’s eyes flicker down to his lips, then lower, then back up.

“Oh dear, I seem to have inadvertently intruded upon your space in my sleep,” Lin said smoothly. “Do please forgive me. I will withdraw immediately.”

He started to pull away, slowly, giving Shō ample time to object. Shō did not object. Lin looked back at him; for an instant an expression of irritated disbelief crossed his face before he quickly smoothed it out. Shō chuckled. “You want something?” he said. “Ask for it.”

A spark of fire ignited in Lin’s eyes, and he paused, halfway out of the bed. For an instant he stayed like that, suspended, and then the fire vanished, and his grin widened as he lowered himself back in. “Oho,” he breathed. “I did not realize you wanted me to _beg_ , Sir Shō. That can be arranged.”

As Lin’s white curtain of hair came down to hide the two of them from the world, as his long-fingered hand cupped Shō’s cheek, Shō considered that while he probably hadn’t won, he didn’t think he’d lost either.


End file.
